


The Voluntary

by GoodGrammaritan



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Controllers (Animorphs), Depression, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, Yeerks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-12 01:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13536645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodGrammaritan/pseuds/GoodGrammaritan
Summary: Ceej is a voluntary Controller because it is better than being in their own head.





	1. Prologue

My name is Ceej. And I am a voluntary Controller.

Not many people understand why I welcome a mind-controlling alien, bent on world domination, into my head.

But not many people have been in my head.

Seven years old, going into a rage at being unable to ride in the front seat.

Nine years old, running around the playground with an imaginary friend because no one would talk to me.

Ten years old, diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and prescribed antidepressants.

Twelve years old, standing in front of the mirror with a bottle of Zoloft in my hand, trying to think of reasons why I shouldn’t just swallow them all.

When I was lured into the Sharing my freshman year, I thought, maybe it will help. Maybe the people who go to the Sharing are people like me, people who need it. Maybe I won’t be so alone.  
And now I’m not alone. Ever.

Indron-2713 had no idea what it was getting into when it first entered my ear. I screamed and fought and resisted, not realizing that this was the greatest blessing I would ever receive.


	2. The Gardens

“You need to get out more.”

I looked up from my book. “What?”

Mom repeated herself. “You need to get out more. Go see a movie or go to the mall with some friends.” Ah. This again. My parents worried I didn’t have enough friends, and that maybe I was losing out on developing necessary social skills.

“Nobody’s invited me anywhere.” I hoped she’d leave it alone.

“You could invite them.”

“No one will say yes.”

“Oh honey, of course they will!” Mom lied brightly. “And I’ll drive you wherever you need to go!”

I turned back to my book and mumbled, “There aren’t any good movies out, anyway.”

I could practically feel my mom closing her eyes in frustration as she took a breath. “What about the mall? Or if that’s not good, uh… Oh!” Mom came around the couch to stand in front of me. “Lisa said Ellen started going to this youth group thing.”

Ellen was a girl in my class that I’d known since the second grade, and we’d never quite been friends in the eight years we’d known each other. We didn’t hate each other, but we had nothing in common, despite being lumped together as “The Quiet Ones,” or more often, “The Losers.”

“I don’t really like group things.”

“They had a cookout at the beach recently, I hear. Doesn’t that sound fun? Food and friends and volleyball?”

I hated barbecue, large groups of people, and sports. “I guess.”

“Let me call Lisa and see what they’re doing next.”

I nodded, mainly so the conversation would be over. Mom went into the kitchen. I could hear her fake-cheerful phone voice, saying that it would sure be a treat and of course she could take us home after.

A couple minutes later Mom came back into the living room. “The group is called the Sharing, I’d forgotten the name. They’re going to the Gardens on Saturday! You know, that fancy zoo theme park place?”

I did know the Gardens. Despite hating large groups of people, I had a weird thing for roller coasters. And I loved animals. “I think the Giant is reopened,” I said. The coaster had been closed for repairs the last time I’d been to The Gardens. My dad’s work had had some lame “team building” thing that sucked on all levels. My favorite coaster was being repaired, there were hardly any other kids there, and the dolphins weren’t out because their tank was being cleaned. I’d really missed seeing the dolphins.

“That’s great! And they’re doing a discount rate for new members and providing a bus, so it’s all perfect, isn’t it?”

Perfect would be a trip by myself, but Mom looked excited for me, and I knew she was trying hard, so I shrugged and said, “Yeah, I guess I’ll go.”

 

Saturday came too soon. I was regretting letting Mom talk me into this, but she seemed so happy that I was getting out of the house that I felt I had to try. We drove to the strip mall where the Sharing’s main headquarters were located. There was a school bus in the lot.

I unbuckled my seatbelt slowly, trying to calm my nerves. There were a lot of people here. Mostly kids around my age, some older, some younger. The older girls all had makeup on and were intimidatingly pretty. I plucked at a corner of my t-shirt, wondering how I had thought diagrams of constellations were cool.

“Oh, there’s Ellen!” Mom said. “Let’s go say hi, I want to make sure I know what time to pick you girls up tonight.”

I got out of the car. At least Ellen wasn’t wearing makeup either. “Hi,” I said.

“Hey.” We stood there quietly as our moms made arrangements. Ellen shuffled her feet, her new sneakers blinding white in the sun.

“OK Sharers, time to load up!” A young black woman stood by the bus with a clipboard. “I’m going to check you all off the list, and then we’ll head out!”

“Have a great day, honey,” Mom said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the side of my head. “I’ll see you at six.” I gave her my best attempt at a smile and got in line for the bus.

When I got to the front of the line, the chaperone smiled widely at me. “You’re new, right? First trip with the Sharing?”

I nodded.

“My name is Beth. Let me know if you need anything.”

She seemed very sincere, her dark brown eyes kind. I nodded again and went up the steps, where I paused. Ellen was sitting next to someone else. I knew we weren’t really friends, but she was the only person I knew. She sort of shrugged at me before looking out the window, and I faced the rest of the bus, feeling the tightness in my chest that meant a panic attack was coming. My hands squeezed into fists as I looked for and failed to find an empty seat

I don’t know how long I stood there before I felt a touch on my shoulder. It was Beth. “I know it’s a drag, but can you help me sort out wristbands on the way?” She indicated the front row and shifted a bag that had neon-orange plastic bands sticking out of the top. “I should have prepared these before we left, but…”

Gratefully I took the seat she had just cleared. She grabbed two sheets of plastic bands, handing me one. She started to separate the bands she held, tearing neatly along the perforation. “We’ve got a lot of these. Almost sixty kids signed up.”

I started separating bands as well, glad to have something to do with my hands. Beth didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t reply. “These are for getting us into the fast lanes.” She fastened a band around her wrist and made a face. “They don’t really match my outfit, though.” She held the orange band against her bright purple shirt, where it clashed horribly. I had to smile at her exaggerated pout.  


She smiled again, holding the band against my shirt. “Looks good with blue, though.” She peered closer. “Vulpecula, huh? Foxes are my favorite animals.”

I couldn’t help myself. “You know constellations?”

She shrugged. “Kind of. I took an astronomy elective in college.”

“My aunt teaches astronomy in Anchorage. I got to sit in once.”

“Oh, I’m jealous. I’ve never been to Alaska.” Beth finished her sheet of bands and started a new one. “I’m working my way through the states. I’ve got thirty-nine out of fifty, but Alaska’s a little harder to get to.”

I told her about the family vacation we’d taken there once. She was surprisingly easy to talk to. I was telling her about the time my uncle dropped the biggest fish I’d ever caught when we got to the Gardens.

Beth looked genuinely disappointed to be cutting off our conversation. “I want hear how this ends,” she told me. She stood up. “Everyone, come get your wristbands from me. Remember, no one goes off alone, lunch is at noon at the aquarium picnic tables, and behave. I only want to hear good things about my Sharers!”

Everyone was talking and laughing as they got off the bus. I hesitated. I didn’t know what group to join. What if they didn’t want me? What if they felt like there were stuck babysitting the new kid? I could feel my chest constricting again.

Finally it was just me and one other kid, a redheaded boy who never took his eyes off his phone. I took a step closer. “Um, do you want to ride the Giant?”

He shook his head without looking up.

I tried again. “Um, I’m Ceej, do you want to see the dolphins?”

The boy sighed. “I guess. Davis.”

We walked to the zoo portion of the Gardens at a glacial pace. Davis barely looked where he was going, still occupied with his phone.

By lunchtime, we had only visited four exhibits. I was aching to go for the rides, but Davis said rides upset his stomach. I was miserable.

I sat as far from everyone else as I could as I ate my sandwich. I chewed slowly, every bite an almost insurmountable effort. I kept at it, though, as experience had taught me an empty stomach led to nausea.

“The bread’s kinda stale, isn’t it?” I looked up. Beth was sitting down next to me. I shrugged. “I knew I shouldn’t have put Kurt in charge of groceries.” She sighed. “I’m hungry enough for it to work, though. I spent all morning dealing with some kids who thought it’d be fun to sneak some alcohol into the park. Underage, and they threw up on the log flume.” She shook her head. “Their parents weren’t pleased.”

“At least it wasn’t the Giant,” I said, trying to put a positive spin on it.

Beth laughed out loud. “Heaven forbid! That’s my favorite!”

“Mine too.”

“How many times have you ridden it today?”

I looked down at the table. “Actually, I haven’t been on any rides yet today.”

“No rides? That’s – “ Beth cut herself off. “Davis, right?” She rolled her eyes. “I know I’m supposed to like all the kids equally, but that one makes it hard. He did the same thing last year.”

We both looked over at him. He was still glued to his phone. I shrugged again, not wanting to admit that I didn’t like Davis, either.

“I’ll put him with Kurt.” Beth pointed at me. “You and me are going to ride everything at least three times before you go home.” She paused, shuddering. “Except for the log flume.”

The rest of the afternoon we did exactly as Beth said, getting our fill of roller coasters. I actually felt happy, though I wondered, as I usually did when things were good, how long it would last.

It lasted until the bus ride home. I was once again seated with Beth, and I heard someone mutter “Kiss-ass,” as they went by. “Total loser,” someone agreed.

I turned to face the window as I felt tears start to gather. This always happened. Nothing good ever lasted.

“I kinda ruined your street cred, huh,” Beth said quietly after a while.

“What?”

“I had fun, but I get it.” She shrugged. “Adults are lame.”

“I…” I couldn’t believe she thought she was lame. “No, you’re not, I just…I don’t think I had ‘street cred’ to begin with.” I attempted a smile, trying to make it sound like a joke.

Beth didn’t smile back. “These years can be tough,” she said. “The Sharing does a pretty good job with youth, but you can’t weed out all the bullies.”

“They’re not bullies if they’re telling the truth,” I muttered. “I am a loser.”

Beth looked me in the eye. “You’re not,” she said emphatically. “What other people think doesn’t matter.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “No. I know. I heard that all the time when I was younger and it never helped.”

I was shocked. Everyone – Mom, Dad, my therapist – always said not to worry what other people thought because it didn’t matter. But they didn’t know how much other people’s thoughts hurt.

“Look, I think things will get better, but it’s hard right now, and probably will be for a couple years.” Beth looked at her hands. “It was hard for me.”

“You weren’t popular?”

“God, no. But I had some really good friends, and that made a big difference. Having someone to talk to helps.”

“Oh.” I turned to look out the window again. “I don’t really have any… I don’t talk to a lot of people.” Of course Beth had had friends. She’d probably had a lot of friends. Popular people never liked to  
admit they were popular.

“You can talk to me,” Beth said. When I didn’t answer, she continued. “I mean it. Having someone support you is important. It’s why I joined the Sharing in the first place.” An odd look flickered across her face for half a second, but then her expression was clear again. “I’ll give you my number. You can text me anytime.”

“Sure,” I said. It came out more sarcastic than I meant it to. Beth looked a little hurt, and we didn’t talk for the rest of the ride.

When we got back to the Sharing, Mom wasn’t there yet. Ellen and I waited in the parking lot, her talking happily to some new friends she’d made, me sitting miserably on the curb.

I felt bad. Beth was really cool, and she’d been trying to be nice to me. I couldn’t stop thinking about my harsh response to her kindness. It ran on replay in my head. Why was I such a jerk? I had probably really hurt her feelings. My chest tightened again, and my stomach joined in on the action, twisting into knots.

I had been really mean. I was the worst person in the world. No wonder I didn’t have any friends.

My eyes unfocused and I felt a dizzy, swooping sensation. I needed an anti-anxiety pill, but I hated admitting failure. I was so weak. Couldn’t I get through this on my own, without medicine?

Beth hated me. I was scum. I was worthless.

I lurched to my feet suddenly. I had to apologize right now or I’d never forgive myself. “Forgot something,” I said to Ellen as I ran inside.

I walked through the unfamiliar hallways, looking for Beth. One door was cracked open. I peered inside, but the room was empty. Before I could move on, I felt a sudden rush of air. It didn’t seem to be coming from the vents. I entered the office and walked around a large desk.

The air had come from a hole in the floor. I walked closer and knelt to look into it. There was a ladder, and a light an indeterminate distance down.

I looked up and around. The office was still empty, and no one was coming.

I climbed into the hole.


	3. A Day in the Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: self abuse, self harm, a curse word

It wasn’t as far a climb as I thought. I got to the bottom of the ladder and looked around. It seemed to be storage space, with a tunnel extending in one direction. It was empty, but there was faint noise coming from the far end of the tunnel.

What are you doing? I asked myself. You’re not supposed to be here! You’ll get in trouble! I almost climbed back up the ladder right then, but then I thought about Beth again. As much as I hated run-ins with authority, I hated hurting Beth’s feelings more.

I dug into my purse and did what I should have done hours ago: took an anti-anxiety pill. They usually at least regulated my breathing when I was upset and made me a little too drowsy to feel things so sharply. A great resource that most of the time I forgot or was too ashamed to use. My throat was dry, but I forced it down, telling myself it would get better.

I took another deep breath, and headed down the tunnel, wondering why the Sharing had a secret tunnel. Was it a front for drugs or something?

I heard footsteps and froze. I’d figured I’d probably encounter someone, but I hadn’t thought it would be this soon. I panicked, wondering if I should run back or keep walking.

While my brain was dithering with itself, Beth had come up next to me. Her eyes were red, and for a second I thought I saw some kind of mark on her upper arm, but her eyes were red, they were red, I’d made her cry and I was terrible and — 

“What are you doing here, Ceej?” she asked tiredly, not sounding particularly mad, but definitely not happy, either.

“I…I just,” I stammered. “Beth, I’m sorry I was mean, I’m not used to people being nice to me, they’re usually making fun of me, or tricking me, and this one time Amanda got me to tell her who my crush was, and she texted him what I said, and the next day he told me he’d never date me in a million years, and that I was ugly, and I can’t trust anybody with anything because what if they use it against me, and what if — “

Beth hugged me, cutting me off. “Oh Ceej,” she murmured. “I’m not mad at you.”

I stepped back. “But you look upset!”

“It’s not you. Believe me.” Beth’s mouth was a firm line. “I don’t like…certain work policies.”

“You don’t hate me?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“But what about — “

“I’m sad that you have to be so tough all the time,” Beth interrupted me. “I understand not wanting to open up or trust someone. If your trust gets broken too many times, you stop wanting to risk trusting anyone.”

That was exactly it. “Still, I’m…I’m sorry,” I said again.

Beth smiled weakly. “It’s all ok. I promise.” She paused. “Well, except for the fact that you’re down here. Weren’t you going home?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

Beth nodded. “I understand, but you really shouldn’t wander around staff-only areas. Let’s go back up, and I don’t want to see you down here again.”

“What is this place, though? Why do you have tunnels?” I asked as Beth followed me up the ladder. It was easier not being face-to-face.

“Well, don’t tell anyone…” Beth’s tone was conspiratorial. “But the former owner decided his paper company would be a great way to smuggle stolen goods. He did well enough to build an underground tunnel, but he got caught, and, well, we moved in.”

“Did having a secret passageway make it more expensive?” I was fascinated.

Beth laughed. “Ok, you really can’t tell anyone this next part: He smuggled drugs. Bad ones. When the story got out, people were kind of leery of this piece of real estate.”

I was right! “Whoa.” 

Beth walked me back toward the parking lot. “Listen, I won’t tell anyone you were out of bounds, but you have to promise you won’t do it again.”

I shook my head vigorously.

“And promise me you’ll text me if you need me. Anytime. For real.”

I pushed through the door and held it open for Beth behind me. My mom and Ellen were waiting in the parking lot. “I promise,” I said quietly, and then I ran to the car.

 

School was exhausting on Monday. I usually spent my weekends curled up with a book; having been out and active at the Gardens, plus the anxiety attacks afterward, had tired me out. Interacting with my teachers and classmates was always an effort, but it was downright draining after my weekend.

I gave the wrong answer in geography class, and Mrs. Nance looked at me despairingly as my classmates laughed. I was usually a good student. I slunk down in my chair, wishing I could sink right through the floor. The worst part was I knew the right answer, after thinking about it for just a second. But Mrs. Nance had moved on.

On the way to English afterwards, I had a horrible realization: I’d left my Romeo and Juliet project at home. And it wasn’t just my project, it was Angela Hightown’s. Mr. Grands had paired us together, hoping to boost Angela’s suffering grades with the help of a straight-A student. And I had forgotten the whole presentation.

Angela grabbed my arm as soon as I walked into the classroom. “We’re going third today, do you want to go over the PowerPoint real quick?”

I couldn’t meet her eyes. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. “I…I left it at home,” I mumbled.

Angela’s face dropped. “No,” she said. “No, you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

I could feel tears gathering. “I was —”

“We lose a letter grade every day it’s late!” Angela interrupted me. “I needed this to stay on the team!”

My shame amplified. Of course. Angela was a starter on the volleyball team, the only freshman with that honor. But one of the team requirements was at least a 2.0 GPA, and Angela had been struggling in English.

I couldn’t help it; I started crying.

“Oh my god.” Angela put her face in her hands. “Coach is going to kill me.” It came out as a muffled wail.

“I’m so sorry, I can maybe call my mom to —”

“Just shut up.” Angela closed her eyes and said resignedly, “I’m going to tell Mr. Grands.”

The tears increased as she walked away. I liked Angela — she was always nice to me, unlike most of the popular girls — and I had let her down in a big way.

I curled in on myself in my chair, letting my hair fall in my face to hide the tears. I snuck glances at Angela a few times during class, but she wouldn’t look at me. Her hands were balled into fists under her desk. When class was over, she left without saying a word.

I took my time going to lunch. I didn’t want to run into Angela, or Mrs. Nance, or anyone in the halls.

I had an unpleasant surprise when I arrived at the cafeteria. Someone had poured soda all over the table where I usually sat. The chairs were damp and sticky as well. The nearest napkin dispenser was three tables away, and I would have to pass Angela’s table to get to it.

“Serves you right,” she muttered as I walked by, and her tablemates snickered.

The napkins didn’t measure up to the task. I ended up perching on the very front of one of the chairs, my lunch precariously balanced on my lap. I thought I could hear people laughing at me and kept my eyes down.

 

It was a relief to get home, though the drive had been awkward. Mom could usually tell when I was upset and had asked prying questions about what had happened. I deflected as best I could, telling her I was mainly just tired.

When I got to my room, I put my backpack down and sat on my bed. It had been a terrible day. And worse, it was all my fault. I was the one who’d answered wrong. I was the one who forgot the project. I always ruined everything.

Everyone hated me, and I deserved it. I never did anything right, and I was always messing up. My therapist always says I’m doing better than I think, but she was wrong. I never improved or learned, no matter how hard I tried or how many breathing exercises I did or how many times they’d increased my dosage on the meds. None of it made any difference.

I was going to have to teach myself a lesson. I picked up my backpack and unfastened the “I Like Big Books and I Cannot Lie!” button. Mom and Dad had removed all thumbtacks and safety pins from my room, but they’d forgotten this.

Making sure my door was shut, I carefully scratched lines into the skin of my inner thigh. It stung but I bit my lip and stayed quiet. One, two, three… God, when would I ever learn? Four, five, six… I was so stupid. Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve…

I stopped. A little bit of blood was welling from scratches four, five, and nine. There. I was bleeding. I’d been duly punished for being a failure.

My phone buzzed. I’d forgotten to take it off silent when I got home.

It was a text from Beth. “Just checking in girlie hope ur day was good” it read.

I typed “I’m fine, normal day,” but paused before sending it. It wasn’t true. This kind of day wasn’t necessarily rare, but it was worse than my usual days. Did Beth mean it when she said I could text her about anything? What if this was too much? What if she was weirded out and got scared off? Normal people don’t hurt themselves.

My eyes filled again. My scratches were stinging, I’d made a fool of myself, and I’d let Angela down. “Serves you right” and the laughter at lunch echoed in my head. It all hurt so much.

I typed, “Not a good day. I messed up so many times.”

“What do u mean u messed up?” she texted back.

“I did everything wrong & then I hurt myself.” I sent the text before I could rethink it.

My phone rang immediately. “I’m taking you out for a Frappuccino and you’re going to tell me everything. Meet me at the Sharing as soon as you can get dropped off.”

It was a school night, but Mom would be thrilled that I had social plans. I was at the Sharing within forty-five minutes.

Beth, as promised, had our drinks. We sat on the steps in front of the Sharing and I told her everything, and how much I hated myself for being a failure and always messing up. Beth listened to every word.

When I stopped, I took a deep breath and looked up and around. A hawk of some kind flew overhead, the sun showing a flash of red in its tailfeathers.

“I used to think I was a failure, too,” Beth told me softly. “I told you, I had some really dark times. But you know what really helped? The Sharing. Getting involved here. Doing good for other people.”

“It’s not just like babysitting?”

Beth laughed. “It’s so much more than that. It’s really a next-level organization.”

“Like how?” I asked.

She stood up and reached a hand down to me. “I’ll show you. It’s time you see what the Sharing is really—” she gritted her teeth, as if she was struggling with herself. “Really—all—about.” She bit out the words, seemingly fighting to speak.

We went inside. To my surprise, we went back to the office with the hole in the floor, and down into the tunnel. We walked long enough that I wondered how many businesses this tunnel was under.  
When we reached a steel door, we stopped. Beth took a key card out of her pocket and scanned it through the reader on the wall. The door opened into chaos.

It was a vast underground cavern. A murky pool sloshed in the center, and screams echoed from everywhere. There were people in cages, and there were terrifying creatures made of knives. One of them grabbed me.

“Beth!” I screamed.

Beth’s mask of calm fell and I saw a terrified stranger underneath. “Please, please, no more kids!” she gasped, and then her face went back to normal. “You’ll be just fine, Ceej,” she said, and turned her back on me.

I was dragged down a pier towards the pool. I saw what looked like slugs swimming in it. It looked disgusting.

“Let go of me!” I kicked and struggled, but it was useless. The knife-creature was too strong.

We reached the end of the pier. “Beth!” I screamed. “BETH!”

Then my head was shoved underwater and I felt slime trickling into my ear.


	4. Getting to Know You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: self-harm  
> Also:  
> Due to formatting issues, thought-speech is indicated like {this}.

{Calendula Jonquil Alameda,} said a voice in my head. {Hello. I am Indron-2713. Let’s get acquainted.}

 

So. There was an alien invasion on Earth. Not a new one, either. It had been going on for some time, subtly and slowly. The Yeerks were in it for the long haul. They absorbed their precious Kandrona rays in the massive Yeerk Pool that ran under much of the city. They were taking over humans one at a time, infiltrating their way into higher and higher positions of power.

I felt like I should say something. {That’s not my name,} I told the voice in my head. {I’m Ceej. My mom —}

{Has a fondness for flowers, and named you after your birth flower, the calendula. She has always adored jonquils.} The voice sounded amused. {How do I know? I am a Yeerk. I have access to your every thought, memory, and impulse. I decide what you do and what you say from now on.}

{No offense, but what good does it do to control a teenager? I’m not even on the student council or anything, I have no influence.}

{You have your friends, and your parents, and those your parents work with. One person’s actions can impact many others.}

I don’t have any friends, I thought automatically.

Indron-2713 didn’t respond immediately. I felt it exploring my mind, looking for a rebuttal. {You have relationships that will yield results.}

That’s weak, I thought.

{I will have time to discover how to put you to use!} It sounded annoyed. {This is merely the beginning!}

{You don’t have much time now,} I told it. {My mom was planning on picking me up at 7, and I don’t know how long I’ve been down here, but it seems like it’s been awhile.}

The thing in my head made me stand up. I — we? — had been sitting in a lounge area for new Controllers. It had moved me there, but it was still an uncanny sensation not to be in charge of my limbs.

Indron walked me back to the steel door, back to the tunnel, back to the ladder into the office. I kept trying to catch it off-guard, see if I could move a hand or even flex my fingers, but its control was too strong. I dimly noticed that it walked with better posture than I usually did.

Beth was waiting for me. “Its mother is waiting,” she told us. “I told her that Ceej was in the bathroom.”

Its mother? Of course. Beth was a Controller, too. Why else would she take an interest in me?

{Don’t think much of yourself, do you?} Indron sounded smug. {Foolish youth.}

Whatever. Indron would see that I was right soon enough. It called up memories of interactions with my mom as it walked me to the car.

Mom put an arm around my shoulders. “Sometimes a friend can really turn your day around, right?” she whispered in my ear. “Thanks, Beth. I think Ceej really needed this today.”

Beth’s smile was warm and gracious. Hard to believe it was an evil alien in control. “Of course, Daphne,” she said. Her smile became conspiratorial. “I don’t think Ceej’s potential is fully realized, but when it is, she’s going to change the world.”

Lying Yeerk.

My mom sounded congested. “You know, I think so too.” She swallowed hard, hugging me tighter. “I’m so glad she has someone to mentor her.” Was Mom crying?

On the ride home Mom kept glancing over at me.

What? I wanted to say. Instead, Indron said in my voice, “I know you worry about me sometimes, Mom. Today was kind of a bad day, but I remembered what you and Dr. Harmon are always saying: reach out. You don’t have to be alone.”

There were actual tears on Mom’s cheek. {Suck-up,} I told Indron.

{The advice was not without merit,} Indron responded. {You waste time with the obsessive thoughts and hurting yourself serves no purpose.}

{I hear that enough as it is,} I told it. {Doesn’t make it any easier to stop.}

{There are better ways to occupy one’s brain. Schoolwork, for instance,}” Indron said. {Your Mr. Grands mentioned extra credit opportunities, didn’t he?}

I’d forgotten that. I didn’t usually need extra credit in English, but with forgetting today’s project…

I was forgetting a lot of things lately.

{My previous host studied Shakespeare. It should not be hard to find an additional play to analyze. And if you do the work but give credit to Angela, that would smooth things over, yes?}  
It would. It would mean extra work, especially if I needed to make it sound like Angela —

{Why do you care?} I shouted in my head. {Don’t you just want to get more people to infest?}

{This eliminates conflict. Less conflict improves relationships, paving the way for more recruits.}

I couldn’t really argue with that. But I shouldn’t just roll over without argument, right? {I’m not going to help you with the work,} I told it. {You’re the one with the idea, you do it.}

It wasn’t much of a resistance. I’ll just let it do this one project for me, then I’ll really defy it, I thought.

An amused chuckle echoed through my head.


	5. Unexpected Perks of an Alien Invasion

Despite having a peace offering, I was dreading seeing Angela the next day. Her harsh words and dismissal still stung.

{You keep going back to this.} Indron sounded impatient. {It has happened and there is no changing it. Why dwell?}

{I just hate people being mad at me,} I told it.

{She will not be mad for long. You will see,} Indron said confidently, walking my body towards Angela.

“Here,” said my voice. “Take it.” I held out the extra homework.

Angela eyed the stapled pages warily. “What is this?”

“A write-up analysis of The Tempest,” Indron told Angela. “The extra credit option Mr. Grands offered.”

Angela looked confused. “What—”

“Turn it in as yours. It’s my fault our presentation was late yesterday.” 

Angela took it. “Won’t Mr. Grands recognize your writing style?”

“I didn’t write it like me. And you can make some changes if you want, to sound more like you. The deadline for this isn’t until Friday.”

Angela skimmed the report. “I…wow. It really doesn’t read like you.”

That’s because I didn’t write it, I thought.

{You welcomed the assistance,} Indron told me, while out loud it said, “I am so, so sorry I forgot to bring the presentation yesterday.” Indron lowered my voice. “My parents have been fighting and it was kind of a hard weekend.”

{What? No they haven’t!}

{Wait.}

“That really sucks,” Angela said. “I hate it when my parents fight, too.” She looked at the report I’d given her. “And this is gonna make up for the late grade. Thanks.” She paused. “And sorry your parents are fighting.”

She walked off. {What was that about?} I asked Indron.

{It’s not a memory you would have found significant, but you once overheard Angela telling a friend she was worried her parents might get a divorce,} it told me. {Based upon that memory, I inspired empathy.}

{But what if she finds out I was lying?}

I swear I could almost hear the Yeerk sigh. {You have never spent time with Angela outside of school, with the exception of this project. You do not talk enough for her to notice any discrepancies with your story.}

{That’s actually kind of brilliant,} I admitted. Belatedly I remembered who I was talking to. {But you’re not going to conquer Earth this way!}

We both knew I was only protesting because I felt obligated, and that I didn’t really mean it. Indron simply said, {I am paving the way, idiotic human.} It almost sounded affectionate, though.

 

There were no mishaps at lunch, and the rest of my day went by smoothly. I mostly zoned out, letting Indron have full rein. I told myself I’d fight this evil alien later, when I wasn’t so tired. Neither of us knew whether that was true.

On the drive home, Indron told my mom about some interesting facts I’d apparently learned in Biology that day. It was good at this. It conversed with my mom enough that she’d know I was feeling better than yesterday, but not with so much enthusiasm that she’d think I was faking. 

I vaguely thought about the book I’d been reading before I was infested. Last night had been all about the extra credit project—oh, and the new alien presence in my head—and it hadn’t crossed my mind. Now I wondered what was going to happen next.

{That is unnecessary,} Indron told me. {We will complete your assigned work for the day.}

We did homework against my will, until I had an idea. {It’ll be suspicious if I don’t read at all,} I told Indron. {I always make time to read. If I don’t, Mom will think something’s wrong.}

{Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,} Indron scolded. We worked silently for a few more minutes, going over some geometry proofs. We had just finished exercise 3 when Indron said, {A chapter at bedtime. To allay suspicions only.}

 

Wednesday and Thursday went smoothly. With Indron in charge, I was really functioning. My homework was getting done ahead of time, I had the correct answers in class, and I hadn’t said anything stupid to anyone. I couldn’t remember the last time I had three good days in a row. {Doesn’t mean you’re staying,} I told Indron out of habit when Mom remarked on it.

There was that chuckle again. {Of course. You shall fight me as long as I am in your head. Not that you present much of a challenge to me, a Yeerk.}

Friday we faced a new obstacle: Travis, my former crush, was back. He’d been with his parents in Europe, on one of those vacations the rich kids’ parents took them on sometimes — a “learning experience” that included luxury hotels and international travel.

I walked into geography to find Travis in his usual seat. He looked at me and pretended to barf.

{Oh god,} I thought. {Why did I ever tell Amanda I liked him?}

The last time I’d seen him had been humiliating. Amanda had feigned interest in my love life, and I’d ended up gushing about Travis. The next day Travis had approached me in the hallway. “Hey Ceej,” he said, smiling. “Do you really think my freckles are hot?”

I had frozen in place.

“It’s cool that you think about me all the time,” Travis continued. He’d leaned in closer. “Actually, I’ve been thinking a lot about you, too.”

He had? Did that mean—?

“I’ve been thinking I’d have to be brain-damaged to date someone so ugly.” He had cracked up, along with the cluster of people behind him, who I’d only just noticed. Amanda was among them. 

“Never in a million years, dorkus.”

 

Now I had to pass him to get to my seat. I felt my cheeks burn and my chest get tight. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to die. I wanted—

{Enough.} Indron forced me to take slow, even breaths, counting as I inhaled and exhaled. Retention breathing, a technique my therapist had recommended.

We walked past Travis without looking at him and sat down. I could feel the physical symptoms of the panic attack fade, faster than a pill had ever done.

I wasn’t quite convinced yet. {What if he says something again?}

{He is fifteen and nothing he says matters. I have observed that human males of his age are characteristically useless.}

The matter-of-fact delivery of that statement made me want to smile, and Indron permitted it.

{You do not have to be controlled by your emotions,} Indron continued.

{Just by you,} I responded.

{But that seems to have worked out better than it might have had I not been in control,} it pointed out.

It was true. It was the shortest panic attack I’d ever had. {You still shouldn’t be, um…} I trailed off. {Thanks, Indron,} I whispered in my head as Mrs. Nance called class to order. {Thank you.}


	6. Adjustments

It didn’t take long to get used to Indron, depend on it, even. I was going on three weeks of always-completed homework, easy social interactions, and if I was honest, peace of mind.

The only downsides to having a Yeerk in my head were that I didn’t read as much as I’d like, and that we had to go to the Yeerk Pool every three days.

It wasn’t that it was inconvenient; there was a tunnel under the school that connected to the Yeerk Pool, and golf carts available for Controllers to use. The Yeerks had thought of everything.

No, it was when visiting the Yeerk Pool that I was reminded that this was an invasion. The Yeerks meant to conquer the earth and control everyone. Surrounded by raging, crying, and resigned involuntary hosts, I had an anxiety attack almost every time. My breath become rapid and shallow, my chest got tight, and I usually cried. While Indron was in my head, I could forget that most people had had perfectly happy lives before they were infested. Most people enjoyed making their own decisions; they wanted to live their lives with the freedom of choice. Most people didn’t freeze when faced with choosing what to say, what to wear, even what bowl to use for their morning cereal. Most people were normal.

It was always unpleasant. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to sit in the lounge as opposed to the cages, but Indron kept me with the involuntary hosts. I didn’t feel like I belonged with people who so clearly wanted the alien out of their heads. I gave myself excuses—I was tired that day; I would be able to resist better if my head weren’t so messed up to begin with; other people were fighting, one stupid teenager wouldn’t make a difference—but it never quite assuaged my guilt.

Sometimes I had nightmares after a visit to the Yeek Pool. Indron had iron control over most of my life, but I guess there were limits when it came to the subconscious. At least when the nightmares woke me, Indron was there to regulate my breathing and get a glass of water. It never took long to calm down.

{Have Yeerks ever tried to invent any portable Kandronas?} I asked Indron. {Or looked into making the effects of the rays last longer?}

{Portable Kandronas were discussed but abandoned due to being impractical. It would be the equivalent of every human carrying with them an air-conditioning unit,} Indron told me.

{Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be good for the secrecy.}

{When Earth is fully under Yeerk control, it might be reconsidered, but these are yet early days.} Indron continued, {As for longer-lasting effects, some Yeerks can withstand more time away from the Pool, but three days is the requirement. Going longer than three days can be…unpredictable, and Visser One does not care for unknowns.}

Indron didn’t often reference the Vissers, those shadowy leaders of the Yeerks, but whenever it did, there was an air of fear. I got the feeling Vissers were more like dictators than elected officials.  


{Visser One is perfectly competent with leadership of our race,} Indron told me. {Fair and practical in all matters.} It sounded defensive.

Our conversation about various forms of government came to a stop as we arrived at the Sharing headquarters. I was already infested, but Indron liked to keep up the illusion that I was making friends, even thriving, due to the Sharing. It made Mom happy, and they actually had pretty decent activities and events, so I went without complaining.

“See you 8:30!” Mom called cheerfully as I got out of the car. “Call if you need anything! Say hi to Beth for me!”

Inwardly I winced, but my voice said, “I will! See you then!” Indron even added a cheery wave as Mom drove off.

{I don’t wave,} I told it.

{You are becoming more outgoing and are newly enthusiastic about life. Of course some mannerisms and habits will change.}

{Yeah, yeah.}

We walked inside to find that it was a craft night: paint, buttons, and small, bare wooden rectangles adorned the tables.

“We’re making picture frames!” said a familiar voice.

If I were in control of my body, I would have stiffened. It still hurt to be around Beth.

Beth smiled brightly at me (or at least Algan-4596 did), and Indron had me smile back.

“So good to see you again, Ceej,” she said, giving me a hug. “I’m glad you decided to join us officially.”

Beth moved on, explaining that we would be painting the frames, then hot-gluing buttons to them to make unique textures and patterns.

At times like these Indron loosened its control. We were in a Yeerk stronghold, and there was little risk of escape attempts. Sometimes I wondered if Indron just needed a break.

Left to my own devices, I began sorting the buttons in front of me. Red buttons, teeny-tiny blue buttons, yellow buttons, irregular buttons. It was a soothing task.

Choosing the paint color was a different matter. Would purple paint clash with the red buttons? Was white too boring? {Indron?}

I swear Indron sighed. {Ceej, you cannot possibly imagine a matter this trivial will have any impact on your future.}

{I know, but—}

“Make two.”

I looked up, startled. Another counselor was sitting diagonally across from me. “We’ve got plenty of extras, so you could make one in every color we have.” He smiled broadly at me. “I’m Tom. I don’t like having to pick, either. None of my family does. We let my little brother pick our dog’s name, and it took days. Literally days.”

“What did he pick?”

Tom rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Well, he was really into the Simpsons at the time…”

“Bart?”

“Homer. Of course, two weeks later he wanted to change it to Kirk, but the dog was already answering to Homer.” Tom grinned. “Oh well. Jake got used to it eventually.”  
I felt myself smiling, for real. I was sure Tom was a Controller, but it was a cute story. “Can I do three, actually?”

Tom’s grin grew wider. “Absolutely, go crazy…um, what’s your name?”

“Ceej.”

“Ceej. Go crazy, Ceej. I’ll check back with you later.”

Tom got up and went to talk to some of the other kids, and I started painting. One purple frame, one red frame, one white frame.

Before I knew it, Beth was calling everyone to start finishing up and cleaning up. She came to look at the frames I’d done. “This is really cool,” she said, picking up the red one with the irregular buttons. “I like how it doesn’t follow an exact pattern.”

My throat got tight. I wished this was a real conversation. I didn’t know what to say.

Indron rescued me. “I’m letting out my random side for once,” it said with my voice. “Trying new things.”

Beth put a hand on my shoulder and smiled that beautiful, warm smile that had first made me feel like she was someone I could trust. “I think that’s great, going outside your comfort zone. You’ve really made some positive changes since joining the Sharing.” She patted my shoulder and then walked on.

I felt a little weepy, but of course Indron was back in control. {I do not understand why you mourn a friendship that was never genuine.}

{You don’t think Algan maybe used Beth’s naturally nice personality to connect with me?}

{Algan may have borrowed aspects, but the host was never any part of the decision to forge a connection.}

{But do you think maybe Beth actually was bullied as a kid?}

{I do not know. I have not had extensive interactions with Algan-4596.} Indron sounded impatient. {Regardless, it does not matter. We Yeerks are trained to use every tool at our disposal to recruit more hosts. It was nothing more than a finely crafted manipulation.}

I wished I could cry.


	7. Allies

“Ceej? The significance of the character names?”

“What?” The question startled me out of my daydreaming. I blinked, taking a second to remember that I was in English class. I was used to Indron answering the questions. “Sorry, can you repeat the question?”

“Are the character names in ‘Young Goodman Brown’ significant in any way?”

I waited for Indron to answer, but the Yeerk was silent. “Um,” I managed. “The names have…they…um.”

Mr. Grands looked disappointed. “Did you read the story, Miss Alameda?”

Had we? I couldn’t remember much about last night’s homework. Indron had seemed subdued after our visit to the Yeerk Pool.

Mr. Grands sighed. “Never mind.” He gave me one last, sad look, then moved on. “Brandon, what do you think?”

 

I still hadn’t heard anything by the time class was over. {Indron!} If it’s possible to shout in your own head, that’s what I did. {What was that about?}

Indron sounded annoyed. {That is nothing to worry about. Even good students forget the answers sometimes.}

{So you just left me hanging?}

{There are more important things than some stupid youth’s schoolwork.}

That was abrupt, even for an invading alien.

{Like what?}

Indron was silent for a long time. I’d given up on it answering when it finally said, {I am to be moved to a new host.}

No. No no no no no no no–

{It is decided, Ceej. I will be more useful to the cause in my new position.}

{But what about me?} I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want Indron to leave.

{I have not converted any recruits since my placement with you. There are plans to take the CEO of an influential company. A human in a position of power will win more to our glorious cause.}

No. I was being rejected yet again, and in this case it was no fault of my own. No recruits? How could I recruit anyone if I didn’t even have any friends? I was alone before. I was going to be alone again. I didn’t think I could manage without a Yeerk.

{You will have a replacement,} Indron told me. {Once infested, we do not surrender Controllers to themselves.}

It wouldn’t be the same, I knew it. Indron was leaving me.

{You cannot be sentimental. Have you not threatened to overtake me when my guard is down?} Indron reminded me amusedly. 

I had, but I’d never meant it, and Indron knew that.

{Ceej, this is not—}

{My dad,} I interrupted. {He’s an attorney. He just got a promotion.}

{You need not tell me the details of your life. I know all.}

{He’s going to have a lot more influence. Be in charge of a lot more employees. He could get you a bunch of recruits.}

There was silence.

{You know he’d do it for me. I haven’t taken an interest in anything besides books for a long time, and it would make him so happy if I invited him to the Sharing with me.}

{You have acknowledged that you benefit from my presence, but you have always believed your parents—normal people—had no need.}

{He doesn’t need you,} I agreed. {But I do.}

 

My day continued as normal, or rather, the new normal. Indron took care of everything—class participation, lunchtime small talk, homework—but didn’t discuss its imminent departure again.

We finished reading the last chapter of “Looking for Alaska.” It was almost midnight, later than Indron usually allowed us to read, but I think it had gotten caught up in the story, too.

{You have suffered,} it finally said. {You have suffered a great deal, and you are so young yet.}

I mentally held my breath, not knowing how to respond.

{What a primitive species humans are,} Indron said dismissively. {So much time and money spent on weaponry and military force, when real power could be gained from greater study of the human brain. Are beings not more powerful when every component functions to the best of its ability? And yet so little thought is spared for those with mental defects.}

I wondered if I should be offended by that, being accused of being defective, but Indron was right. I wasn’t normal. I didn’t work like I was supposed to.

{If…If I give you my dad, will you stay with me?} I knew it was wrong. I knew Dad didn’t want an alien in charge. But I couldn’t go back to how it was before.

Indron was silent again, presumably thinking. {Indron?}

{I cannot give you an answer tonight,} Indron said. {I will make no assurances. But…There are many things to consider.}


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: the f-word

The Yeerk Pool wasn’t so bad anymore. It helped to be surrounded by others who shared my appreciation for the Yeerks. I was even making friends on my own, without an alien in my head.

One Friday afternoon, I was coming to the Yeerk Pool a day early. My family had a weekend vacation planned, so I needed to stock up on Kandrona rays before we left.

I walked away from the Pool, peering at the lounge to see if any of my friends were there. I had just recognized Sarah’s hair when I heard my name.

“Ceej!”

I turned toward the cages of involuntary Controllers. I hardly noticed them these days.

“Ceej, what the hell is going on?”

“Beth?” I barely recognized her. Tears were running down her face, smearing her makeup. She was covered in scratches and bruises, clear signs of fighting the guards. Her hair was a mess, and her shirt sleeve was torn. A gash bled sluggishly there. “Are…Are you hurt?” I asked lamely.

“Why aren’t you in here with us?” She gestured behind her.

I felt helpless. “I was a mess before this, Beth,” I told her. “You know I was, we talked before I ever got infested. You know how bad it was.”

“How can life be worse than being controlled by an evil alien?” Beth demanded. “How can you betray the human race like this?”

“I didn’t—”

Beth cut me off, relentless. “How can you choose this?” she shouted. “How is this something you do willingly? What the FUCK could ever make you choose evil?”

“I’d be dead without the Yeerks,” I said softly. “I don’t think it’s evil to choose to live.” I turned my back and walked away.

When I lowered my head into the Pool a while later, it was with relief. I felt the touch at my ear, the slight sensation of pressure moving towards my head.

{Welcome back,} I said.

{It is indeed good to be home,} Indron said.


End file.
